hawaii

saw woman in a red callico dress, thin sun dress and she had long slender legs pressed into nude-leather open-toes shoes with a pressed leather heel. Her toe nails were plum. The skin of her legs was translucent and pale and smooth. The dress covered her upper thigh but the hip was smooth under the thin fabric and her smooth tummy rose to a round bosom. Her arms were slender and her nails were short and natural. Her eyebrows were strong but her hair was dark and full and fell to her shoulder in one splash. Her skin was clear and her mouth was full and she sat there in the cafe nursing a coffee shake with a guy friend and I caught her eye and she looked at me and I couldn't read my Gravity's Rainbow -- then a friend of mine came in and we went outside for a cigarette and she left past us looked back and she and he took off in a civic... but her slim pale legs winked at me once more as she drew them into the car then she shut the door and as she passed I followed her and she smiled and left into the night in the white japanese import.

Green foam swirls and clings to my bare ankles;
Water warm and thick, my toes sink in the sand.
I walk in the surf because it is cool

Relief from the frying-pan beach.
The waves turn my clothes dark.
I Beckon you to join my promenade;

But, instead, sinking to my eyes like
Crocodile, I approach and grab your
Ankles to bring you in with me to swim.

We remove our clothes and they float like jellyfish:
Fabric bodies on the surface full with air,
Legs and sleeves swirl below like hair.

The water is always opaque when
Seen from shore. Only our heads
Bob like channel markers.

we ambled along the
crunchy surfaces
of the hard lava.

the sun was late
we help bags of cameras
and flashlights

sulphur and steam
scratched the vog hazy
sky like signals

ropes and cones
directed us to the
molten pourings

Mauna Loa, Kilauea,
vents, to the sea, more
mileage for the Island

we couldn't see the
soft stone from deep
below once magma

for the sea was far
and the foot holds were
perilous, the air cold

we wore hiking boots
we wore short pants
we wore t-shirts

we wore windbreakers
around out middles but
the head from the nearing

lava was like the sun mid
day on a windless deck
on a windless summer day

covered in asphalt
covered in asphalt
covered in asphalt

a mid summer say
windless and sunny
covered in asphalt

we had seen petroglyph
we had seen where women
offered umbilical cords

this place has mana from
pele, the goddess of fire,
of this cauldron

I hid my face behind
the viewfinder of a nikon
people warned of splattering

i inched in backwards
i felt fingers on the backs:
my thighs, small of back

whirled around for the shot
a single shutter release
and then back

two pretty girls from the UK
stood a few feet away and I
became more daring for them

i was with my lover but two girls
from the UK -- i had to do it
to slip up the older man with them

the sun wavered then set
the red lava broke free
repeatedly and each time

elated gasp and then children
took rocks and stones and hurled
them into the fissures.

thunk and then nothing the
lava was not even close to
liquidity. Viscous Viscous Viscous

and then the fissure broke and fingers
flitters through bright neon red like
the sign for live nudes on bourbon

a little honey all that black
velvet and red neon, but
of itself: flamboyant extreme.

the hard crusty french bread
pahoe'hoe lava beneath our
feet hot like from an oven

a warning sign: the dangers of
sulphur -- the dangers of sudden
fissure, of death of maiming --

warnings to pregnant mothers
two british nannies i showed
off for and my girl and hot lava.

lava surfing consists of parking a car
walking 200 meters with a flashlight,
looking for a while as sluggish

viscous
viscous
viscous

hot hot hot hot lava lava lava
pahoe'hoe, a'a, pahoe'hoe, a'a
crunch brittle shell

and then its over and you can't find the
British nannies but you have your lover and
you share a torch (for each other)

get into the car and
drive off and then lie
as to how difficult it has been.

I took a 3 mile swim across Waikiki
wore my new tyr goggles
rob wore tyr trunks

I swam in the soothing salt
water and watched the dim gray
fish as they scurried

I walked back along the
beach.

I actually wasn't self-
conscious of my paunch
I guess 3 miles of free-
style make me feel a little
pumped.

I arrived and my father
stood where I had left my
slippers, my t-shirt, my fob,
and my keys

95 sailors

he was smoking what looked
to be a joint

two men stood to either side

"they're Russian, this
is a Russian cigarette."

they were wearing
ball huggers (we
called them that
in high school)

they had a bottle of vodka in
their duffle

they had a hi-8 in their
duffle

they offered us cigarettes,
sweet tasting strong filterless
cigarettes.

They offered us shots of
cheap Russian vodka
in little Hawaiian shot
glasses which read:
full=stud
half=man
almost empty=girl

they where both
engineers in the
engine compartment
of a tuna boat out of
vladivostok (sp)

they made $200/$150
per month

they spoke no English save
5-6 words

I new nastrovia
I knew da
I knew nyet
c'est tout

they knew German,
I knew french

I didn't get us any closer

danke bitter
ya da nyet 9

anyway...

Strong men
and they were bearish
although they weren't
tall,
but I have never considered
a bear tall, just big and strong.

Robert had a mouth full of gold
the other man had a name
a could not pronounce
they told us the word
for merci/danke
and de rien/bitter

but I forgot.

We had to leave-- bob to meat a lover
and me to call my gal who spent
merry merry merry merry
with her familial clique
in Connecticut (they love
to sail there-- I hated it)

sizzle sizzle
is that pork on the pan?

I walk along Kalakaua
with this small black camera
in late afternoon and search out
images to form in and around.

I walked in a city I didn't know,
during a day poorly spent on a
lonely island.

The air was cool,
the sun low,
the light rich and orange.

People are smaller than I
They are fragile as tinder

I must appear absurd and
gargantuan in my shorts and
stripy shirt.
I wear my hair long and tangled
and a beard

We spoke French in triangle park
until the pelt of morning burnt into the spine
of day. You led me through verb drills
until our nasal honk, goose-like, blurred
and your cupped palms spun
as though swatting at flies
before your face.

You left me for the beach and I watched you
cross against the growling traffic.
A brazen strut tousled your hair,
until I only knew you by the yellows
and blues of the blanket
That whipped against your shoulder.

I huddled in the Tradewinds, pressing down
flyaway texts, jotting elusive words meaning
to want to need in bleeding rollerball scrawl
upon a graph paper tablet.

I thought of wants and needs and glistening
PABA torsos and legs gritty with sand.

tonight i went out with a
friend who drew lines in the
sand and i sat there near
the azure shallows and washed
my feet in the ocean.

a sand crab ducked into a hole
out of the night air to deep
chambers.

(so what if i wanted to fuck her
i know the rules of the game and
am very cool with the rules of the
game because they are not drawn in
sand but are etched in the sky
they are etched in the heavens and
under the belly of the slug and
they are written on clay tablets
and on the brows of virgins and whores
and priests and studs and they play
on my crown like a spoon on the pot
worn atop my dizzy dizzy head.
BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM)

like the glock like the uzi like the galil
like the ruger like the colt like berretta
like the m-16, like the ak-47;ak-74
like tumblers or hollow points or
in the case of most of my brothers
in today's virile virile infertile
world -- it is written in blanks
written in blanks behind a bit of
rubber and nonoxyl-9

our friendship is holy and lovely
and why would i want to fuck up such
beauty? such a life-long friend who
shifts my paradigm as a daily right and
i would not jeopardize such a lovely lovely
perfection for to do so would be selfish
and who wants to fuck anyone that much?
who wants to fuck anyone that much?
who wants to fuck anyone that much?
not me but someday there may be such a person
and that would make the true union glimmer
and sparkle visible from the farthest
farthest recesses of dark lonely space!

we went out to the brothers mcmullen
and i got the bad advice. all the
negative parts of the film appealed
to me. they spoke to my manly irish
stud downing pints of Dublin guiness
and singing singing drinking songs.
no nay never no nay never no more!

what a fine film for an irish lover-boy
studmuffin like myself, anyway!

there is always another lover
there is always greener grass
there is always forgiveness
and if not, see first line

(and yes, i am a hopeless romantic
who has the muse and feels the passion
and believes in true love, soul mate
match made in heaven -- but I shan't ever
admit to any such basket of lies lies lies!)

there is no such thing as soulmates
and there is no aspect of convention
that shouldn't be corrupted.
except trust except trust except trust
trust and love -- keep those HOLY!
(like the sabbath like the
First Day of Rosh Hashanna)

Jews to Temple Jews to Temple!

its a man's world, an oyster,
and aphrodesiac culminating in O
Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh Yeeesssssss!

(give this fucked-up world back to the
goddess; give this fucked-up world to
the beautiful gentle lovely femmes!)

and such a beautiful such a beautiful
beautiful beautiful friendship that
other lovers and other lovemaking and
other ideas and thoughts that conflict and
hurt and invade shall be overshadowed by the
beauty and gorgeous candor of playmate
loverfriends who would never draw
lines in the sand because these things
really detract from living from living
from living from life -- they build
falsity lie lie lie lie (fib)
and neither shares what floats the boat.

and more things culled from celluloid:
be desired more than you desire
sometimes a cigar is just a cigar
irish catholic boys from RC school
are rife with just a host of delicious
hand up hung up fuck up and amen
(but we are cute and irresistible
and adore really dirty sex,
dirty language, sneaky sex!)

madonna in the kitchen
whore in bed
(not my words not my words)

we never become bored at least
but it is always cream, never daily bread!
eat of this this is my body
drink of this this is my blood

(oh the thrill of such clear-cut sin!)
(oh the thrill of almighty god who has such
undisputable legalese at the end of every human
contract with the after after after life!)

more advice from celluloid:
don't be afraid, you'll get laid again
don't be afraid she'll be much more beautiful
and have your passion for sex
and have your desire to raze lines in the sand.
and she'll hold your hand and look at
you through her lashes, through her hair.
and you and she shall be partners
and you and she shall couple
and you and she shall share the same name
and you and she shall procreate
and you and she shall have a brownstone
and a summer cottage
and a dog but not a cat (i am allergic)
and the little pollywog shall be loved hugged and cuddled
and you and she shall invite friends over
and sample red wines and visit the fine cities
and eat meusli in bed as the sun pours in past
the thin curtains and morning edition is on the
radio as I shave and she gets ten more minutes
before we part for the day and indulge our public
passions.

or forget the shaving and meusli and ten more minutes...
there is just enough time this morning so that we won't
be late for work so let's just crawl back into bed and...

And you'll really love really love and like each other to
friends confidants lovers mates smitten and pie eyed

and her eyes shall burn
and her eyes shall burn for you
and her eyes shall burn with lust
and her eyes shall be intelligent and kind
and her eyes shall burn

and pet names shall gel like too sweet honey
and make our friend cringe from the sugar

"Patience," he told me, "It's not easy
living with an intellectual woman,
but I highly recommend it."

Amen!

and she'll be your friend
you be friends that fuck until the daylight
and then you'll call in sick for work
again and again and again and again

she will even seduce you from your telnet session
she will even seduce you from your rlogin session
she will even seduce you from your gopher session
she will even seduce you from your finger session
and the netscape navigator shall be under dust...

and the crow will cock
and the cock will crow
and it'll be so ooooooooh!

and to touch the sensitive skin of the
cheek with the side of the thumb to
move wisps of hair from the face
so i can see the eyes

and the line of the flank that leads
to the rise of the hip to the ass
where the skin bisects to the legs
and the smooth smooth skin reflects
and the navel and the ribs and the
back and the spine and the neck and the
nape and the shoulders and the arms
and the hands and the rise of the bosom
a spill of hair and the little toes

those words that mar genteel conversation
will be heaven sent and the living will be
the foreplay -- the tongue and the finger
will be the communicators as they are in
daylight, although less pressed for meaning.

would you please explain yourself again
would you please explain yourself again
would you please explain yourself again
and again and again and again say when

yes, i shall, yes, i shall and we shall
wind like serpents into french bread.

©1995 Chris Abraham